First things first: I hit my goal! Yea!!! Molly would be so proud.
Now, on to club-hopping.
Even after years of writing, I still haven't figured out my schedule. There's the Butt-in-chair Club. There's Club 100, whose members diligently write 100 words per day for 100 days. There's the 4 a.m. Club. There's the Whenever-my-muse-shows-up Club.
I have dabbled in all of these clubs (even the 4 a.m. Club when aforementioned daughter was on the "On 2 hrs/Off 2 hrs" schedule...are you people insane?), but never really found a place to hang my quill. Now I'm perhaps the charter member of the One-day-per-week Club, which - miraculously - seems to work for me. I'm getting more done now than I ever have. (Nobody said this was good writing, but that's another topic).
Like many writers before me, I have discovered a secret of the universe: busy people get more done. Here's my theory on why it works for me:
When I sneak away to the library on Wednesdays,
a) I remind myself this is what I want to be doing (gold star, because this is truly the primary reason anyone should write);
b) I am paying somebody for the priviledge of doing it. Money is a huge motivator - or rather, the waste of it. I hate waste. Guilt is my beloved monkey; and
c) My husband will kill me if I don't. ("We spent how much for a sitter so you could write, and you've written 300 words in the last month??") Or rather, that's what I would say if I were him (see b).
Now that the big hunks are mostly in place, the little hunks and glue are starting to take shape - things that maybe I could tackle in short bursts, like 100 words/day. Maybe not for a hundred days, but it's worth a try.